


Polynomial Expansion

by Corisanna



Series: Significant Figures [2]
Category: Bleach, Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Ballet, Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Deleted Scenes, Family Fluff, Figurative Time Capsule, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Male-Female Friendship, Nerd Bonding, Nerds of a Feather, Omake, References to Shakespeare, Relationship(s), Sibling Bonding, Time Loop, Time Travel, difficult conversations, this is what happens when I converse with reviewers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-02-28 21:18:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13280079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corisanna/pseuds/Corisanna
Summary: People may be said to have relationships, but their full extent can only be known upon combination of every factor to find exactly what is being summarized by such simple words. A collection of bonus scenes for As N Approaches Infinity.





	1. Sibling Nerd Bonding Time

**CHAPTER ONE**

**Sibling Nerd Bonding Time**

_A follow-up to Chapter 61 of As N Approaches Infinity-- what happens directly after Ichigo's heart-to-heart with Homura. Vaguely existed in my head but got fleshed out after chatting with reviewers._

* If you want to watch the video Homura and Ichigo are talking about, search YouTube for “ballet romeo juliet fantasy overture” without quotation marks. It's the one that's 20:20 long. It's not necessary to watch it to read the story. My ballet terminology/analysis may not be perfect.

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

Ichigo was sitting on the floor in front of the smart TV with Homura. She was kneeling and holding the remote, turned to half-face him with her back mostly to the door. He was sitting cross-legged, angled to see the TV and the girl, holding a notebook and a pencil and watching Homura intently. His eyes drifted over her shoulder and spotted a smart phone at the bottom corner of the doorway, held by his father's hand. Isshin was probably laying on the floor recording them in secret. He did this occasionally when he thought Ichigo or the girls were being cute and would stop if they knew he was watching. Usually, his father doing that pissed him off to the point of charging him and chasing him around to grab the phone. But this time....

He turned his face from the phone without calling attention to it. This would be the only way his future selves could “remember” this moment. And it was a remarkable moment. It was the most relaxed and... teenagery he had seen Homura. Ichigo wished the camera could capture her face, but he knew she was sharp enough to notice movement in the window if Isshin tried to get that angle. And no audio would get through, besides.

_Work with what you have_ , Ichigo told himself.

Homura used the remote to pause the video. “Note the use of flute as Juliet dances by herself. And that the melody sounds stressed and is played as countering the strings. This implies the distress the feud causes her.”

“Right,” Ichigo said with a nod.

Homura unpaused the video and said, “The way Juliet dances from side to side between the two lines of backup dancers represents her inner conflict between love and hate after Romeo kills her cousin to avenge Mercutio.”

Ichigo watched the screen with interest and muttered, “My husband lives, that Tybalt would have slain, And Tybalt’s dead, that would have slain my husband. All this is comfort. Wherefore weep I then? Some word there was, worser than Tybalt’s death, That murdered me. I would forget it fain, But oh, it presses to my memory, Like damnèd guilty deeds to sinners' minds. 'Tybalt is dead, and Romeo banishèd.'”

_Nerd_ , the Hollow sneered without any heat.

“Precisely.” Homura sounded pleased. “Now, when Juliet exits and Romeo enters, his dance is an expression of his lamenting in Friar Laurence's cell.”

“When he's getting all melodramatic about how being banished may as well be death and the friar is all 'calm down, you idiot'?”

Homura's shoulders twitched as though she was stifling a laugh. It made Ichigo grin.

After observing for a moment, Ichigo asked, “So is the music getting all intense again and the backup dancers doing their thing the scene of the Capulets pissed off about Tybalt and planning Juliet's wedding? Like, plotting against Romeo and Juliet without realizing it?”

“Yes. Ah-- see how Juliet appears and weaves through them? They determine her path, yet she also avoids them. Evades their plans.”

The two sat and watched the screen for a minute. Cymbals suddenly clashed.

Ichigo smirked as the dancer playing Romeo threw himself into the scene. “And here comes Romeo, all _boom! Screw the law, I'm gonna visit my wife!_ ”

Homura actually snorted.

“Oh, hey,” Ichigo muttered under his breath, leaning forward and squinting at the backup dancers, who had taken still positions as Romeo danced around them. Their stillness let him focus on them better. “It's hard to tell when they're moving, but they're really breathing hard. I see what you mean about it being strenuous.”

The girl sighed softly and looked wistful.

_Crap crap crap. Think before you speak!_ Ichigo wanted to kick himself. He forced a cocky, conspiratorial grin and said, “Your magical girl stamina will let you _crush_ them once you get around to dancing.”

Homura's eyes darted to his and she favored him with a dry expression like a mild _you're terrible at subtlety but I appreciate the sentiment_ , but she didn't comment. Instead, she turned to the screen as the music calmed and complained, “This camera angle is terrible. It should be showing Romeo and Juliet flitting around the balcony set before they come down to center stage.”

“Camera guy needs to learn how to keep the shot focused, too,” Ichigo observed. “I hope the dance people didn't _pay_ this person to film this.” He noted her amusement and looked at the screen like he knew he usually looked at his college textbooks. “So like... I'm guessing it's significant that the backup dancers left and it's just the two of them?”

Homura nodded. “This is their wedding night and the beginning of a _grand pas de deux_.”

Her pronunciation sounded so authentic that Ichigo laughed, “You weren't kidding about being able to speak French!”

The girl fidgeted, but didn't otherwise accept the compliment. “A _pas de deux_ is a dance performed by two partners. The term means 'step of two.' Note how they begin by slowly mirroring each other's steps to get in starting position.”

“Mm.”

“This is the _entrée_ , or entrance. Now comes the _adage_ or _adagio_ , the slow main body of the dance.”

“Wait-- that music sounds so familiar!”

Homura's lips actually curved into a small smile. “That is the love theme. It has become popular as stock dramatic romantic accompaniment in a variety of media. To the point of cliché, really.”

_She's a nerd, too_ , the Hollow said with something that sounded as close to affection as it ever got-- usually regarding Karin and Yuzu. The Hollow tracked Ichigo's thoughts and drawled, _What's yours is_ mine _, King._

Of course. And it didn't hurt that the girl had helpfully painted a bright red target on the thing that had created the poor Witch who had practically stamped a _Property Of_ mark on him a year previous; the enemy that also swindled his sisters' souls. Which the Hollow was also possessive of.

Ichigo scribbled in his notebook before going back to watching the dancers do... stereotypical graceful ballet stuff.

“Now they are miming kissing,” Homura explained.

Ichigo nodded, then knit his brows in confusion. “Why are they rolling on the floooorrrOHHHHH. Wedding night.”

The briefest of laughs escaped Homura's mouth. She immediately covered her mouth with one hand.

Ichigo grinned then gave her a fake stern look. “And what would _you_ know about wedding nights, young lady?”

Homura paused the video and raised a brow at him. She airily said, “It's _Shakespeare_ ,” as if that was sufficient explanation.

Which it was. Ichigo barked out a laugh. “He _was_ the king of dirty jokes and skirting around sex.”

“Mother gave me an annotated high school level copy of _Romeo and Juliet_ when I was nine without reading it first. I had many questions for her. ”

The mental image of an innocent little Homura asking her mother about maidenheads and the torrent of bawdiness that was Mercutio's dialogue made Ichigo remember his own father's face when he had asked at eleven. Ichigo laughed harder.

“Shall we continue?” Homura asked.

“Sure, sure.”

The video played. Homura said, “Note how a few backup dancers dart across the stage behind them. That is the thoughts of their families' feud and their impending separation because of it. Their continuing their _pas de deux_ despite the backup dancers signifies their defiance of the feud.”

“Oh, I get it.” Ichigo watched studiously. “Oh, is the way they're reaching their arms like that like... the part where they're all _I need to leave, I want you to stay, okay I'll stay, wait no you should go_?”

“Yes. Now, the variations.”

“What?”

“Each dancer takes a turn dancing by themselves to show off technical skills.”

“Ohhh.” Ichigo scribbled in his notebook, sloppily writing his own shorthand with brief glances at the page as he watched the dance. “Oh, they're by themselves and that love music is back.”

“Yes. This is the _coda_ , which is essentially a recap of the _pas de deux_ leading to this point, building to a dramatic climax.” Homura gestured at the screen, swinging the remote way up with the music, then drawing it down toward her and back and forth with the dancers. “The way the music suddenly gets loud as Romeo lifts Juliet several times between parting and coming together implies the consummation of their marriage.”

Ichigo slowly turned and looked at her. She was watching the screen with scholarly interest that would be at home in an art gallery. He looked at the screen and suddenly saw the sexual innuendo in the graceful moves he had never really attached significance to before.

_Climax_ , the Hollow snickered. _Coming together._

_Shut up. She doesn't know what she's saying._ Of course his Hollow could laser-focus on the bawdy double entendres.

_That woman is upside down and her skirt is flipped up by her shoulders. Over the guy's face,_ the Hollow said with a leer. _Ask the kid what_ that _means._

Ichigo glanced at Homura again and decided he didn't want to have that conversation.

_Coward_ , the Hollow cackled.

“They part, and Juliet is alone as the backup dancers representing the obstacles to their love move around her ominously. This is her family insisting on her marriage to Paris.” Homura leaned closer and pointed at the dancers as they formed a circle around Juliet, who paced and waved her arms in distress. “Juliet is surrounded and feels trapped. There is no escape. Then she takes the potion and feigns death, which makes all the backup dancers stop-- it's her escape.”

Ichigo watched as Juliet fell backwards into the waiting arms of the male backup dancers and lay spread-eagled; the music became somber as they raised her up like pallbearers. “And here comes Romeo,” Ichigo said morbidly. The danseur took the ballerina from the bier of backup dancers and held her over his shoulder, imitating staggering slowly backward in devastation as she lay lifeless. Then he set her on her feet, dipped her, and lifted her. The ballerina subtly cooperated with his movements, eyes closed and body loose. Romeo propped her up against his chest; her head lolled against him as he lifted her arms for her.

“Oh, God, is he dancing with her 'dead' body?”

“Yes. Essentially pleading for her to come back to life.”

“My heart.”

Homura paused the video as Romeo eased Juliet onto the stage and reached for his hip. “This is a common mime for retrieving an object and showing it to the audience. In this case, it is the vial of poison Romeo purchased to commit suicide.” She unpaused; Romeo swung his arm in a horizontal arc as though to display something in his palm, then swiftly jerked his arm toward his face.

“Oh, and that's like charades for drinking!”

Homura gave him a _look_. It wasn't an _angry_ look, so he ignored it. He'd found The Thing to gently tease her about. A potential inside joke for them. It was immediately scrawled in his notebook and circled.

Turning back to the screen with a sniff of disdain, Homura said, “Juliet's arm movement here is a common mime for waking up.”

“Oh, hey, I just thought that was a universal thing. Like stretching and rubbing your eyes.”

“That is why it is an effective mime. Though it is a bit of a chicken-or-egg sort of thing.”

“Aww, hell, she's gonna do the same dramatics with _his_ dead body, isn't she?”

“A bit.”

Ichigo watched a kneeling Juliet shake her head in denial, then cradle Romeo's head to her chest as she rocked him in despair. Then she eased him down and straightened, reaching skyward and swaying her entire body as though to wail to the heavens.

“My. Fucking. _Heart_.”

Juliet ran her hands along Romeo's body and made a motion of surprise, then grabbing near his hip.

“Aw, hell, she found the dagger.”

Juliet brandished a fist with a rigidly straight arm, then mimed stabbing herself in the ribs and gracefully rolled onto Romeo, coming to a rest spread-eagled on top of him as the drums rolled and the curtain closed.

The screen went to the usual selection of videos and replay options. Homura squirmed and looked at him hesitantly. “So....”

“So what?” Ichigo asked brightly, meeting her eyes with a smile.

Homura looked down and fidgeted with the remote. “Is it... boring?”

“No way,” Ichigo said.

“Really?”

“Really,” Ichigo reassured her. “Let's watch it again now that I got your crash course so I can look for more things.”

The girl looked up at him through her bangs and slowly straightened. “Are you... sure?”

“Why do you think I wouldn't want to?”

“Most people say ballet is boring and old-fashioned.”

Ichigo scoffed. “Most people say _Shakespeare_ is boring and old-fashioned.” He made a motion as though to shove something aside-- oh, hey, a pantomime-- and said, “Ignore them. They don't know what they're missing.”

Homura blinked at him and seemed to have a slow realization. All she said, though, was, “Oh.”

“So, you gonna hit replay?”

After searching his face like she had never seen him before, Homura shook herself and turned back to the screen. “Yes. Are you ready?”

“Absolutely, professor!”

She didn't turn to look at him, but he could definitely see a smile in profile. Victory.

By the time Karin and Yuzu loudly tumbled in the door from school, Ichigo and Homura had watched the same video four times and Ichigo had three pages of scrawled notes which Homura was picking over with him in studious contentment.

He completely forgot his father was filming them. Every other “him” would be glad of it.

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

 


	2. Friendship Goals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So while I was in sick sleep deprivation land, I realized I haven't shown Karin and Tōshirō actually being confidants like Tōshirō's narration has implied. (It doesn't help that they speak fluent sarcasm with each other.) And then I realized I've had this little scene in my head for a long time and never written it down. I've just known it happened. Boop.

**CHAPTER TWO**

 

**Friendship Goals**

_A scene from early in Timeline X+N+1, between Homura leaving Karakura and returning to visit the next weekend._

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

Karin tried to focus on the math on the board. Really, she did. Math was her thing. But her mind kept derailing into the mess Homura Akemi had so casually revealed to them all and that was really damn distracting. Yuzu seemed to find school stabilizing or comforting, but Karin itched to get out and _do_ something. Goat Face told her a dozen times a day that he'd work with them in Urahara's basement to see what they could do, train them to make up for how they hadn't been able to practice outside of labyrinths, and do tests for the resident mad scientist, but they had to wait for Urahara to finish going back over everything his other self sent back in more detail and sort it out neatly because Futurahara hadn't had time to do much more than throw a shitload of files together and cram them in Homura's time capsule. And he had to document what had happened after the time capsule was buried based on Homura's word. And whatever. Karin thought Urahara at least had his shit together enough to do that pretty quickly since he had absorbed the stuff fast enough that first afternoon, but noooooo. He was taking _forever_.

Okay, so two days.

Two days _felt_ like forever in her new world.

Karin irritably jerked forward to prop her chin up in her hand on her desk and tapped her pencil in time with her jumping leg. A classmate turned to give her a dirty look so Karin bared her teeth and gave him a death glare until he quailed and looked away. It was going to be a long day.

A lifetime later, Karin crammed her stuff into her bag and rushed out the door, out the building, out the everything, out out out she needed out. She kinda felt like she even wanted out of her body, that it was holding her back from rising and screaming and fighting, confining her righteous fury. Which was a good thing, objectively, but... yeah. Every _molecule_ of her shrieked to take action and waiting was _not_ action and _ughhhhhhhhh_.

She hurried home at Yuzu's side. Neither spoke, but they walked so close together that their arms continually brushed. It was reassuring. They'd been doing it since Homura left, kept checking on each other. No one would tell them too many details of what had happened beyond the breaking of Yuzu's Soul Gem, just broad strokes, so they were constantly guessing and trying to prevent anything. It was slowly twisting them into knots, edging them toward paranoia.

They got home, dumped their stuff in the foyer, and invaded the clinic together without having to speak a word. Goat Face glanced at them while seeing off a patient and turned back to give the patient some papers. Karin and Yuzu traded neutral looks. Every time their father saw them after they had been out of sight for more than an hour, his face would momentarily look... grieved and relieved at once, Karin supposed. A touch of fear. They were getting those looks from everyone in the know.

Which didn't entirely include _them_ , goddammit.

When the door closed behind the patient, Goat Face immediately said, “He's still busy, but should be ready for us tomorrow.”

Karin huffed and crossed her arms. “The hell's he still doing?”

Goat Face approached them and gave them each a gentle hug. Karin allowed it. The man sighed and explained, “Tōshirō's over there right now. Coordinating some things with Urahara and Yamamoto. It'd be faster if they weren't using Tōshirō as a courier to avoid interception of communications.”

“Uuughhhhhhhh, why is the other mad scientist a bigger creep than _Uraharaaaaa?_ ” Karin groaned. “How is that even physically _posssss-i-blllllle?_ ”

“He learned from the best,” Goat Face said with a smirk.

“Meaning Urahara?” Karin asked flatly.

“Yes.”

“Ass.”

They stood awkwardly for a long minute, none of them sure how to behave. All three of them felt guilty over the magical girl clusterfuck, none of them wanted to worry the others, so all of them worried. All of them felt like they had failed the others somehow. It was ridiculous. They were stuck.

“Do you want some help in the clinic, Daddy?” Yuzu eventually asked.

“I'd love that,” Goat Face answered too quickly. “Karin, would you like to--?”

“No,” she interrupted. Karin shifted restlessly. “I... gotta get out. Burn off some... everything.”

Goat Face looked sad but smiled. “Soccer?”

“Yep.”

“Be home for dinner,” Yuzu ordered.

“A'ight,” Karin chirped with a salute before sauntering back into the house.

Her movements sped up as she changed and got everything together. She practically leaped out the front door and was sprinting for the park before she really knew what she was doing, soccer ball bouncing against her back in its net with every stride. Karin was past the park and halfway to the hillside where she'd watch the sunset with Tōshirō sometimes when she came back to herself. She slowed and breathed deeply, centered herself, and fumbled her phone out of her pocket. She dropped the ball and tapped the screen with hands that totally weren't trembling.

_\- If you don't come hang with me before you go back I'll hunt your ass down_

( _I need you._ )

 

Karin stared at the screen intensely as she waited for Tōshirō to reply-- he always did so quickly if he was in her world-- and looked at it so hard that she saw pixels instead of words by the time a reply popped up.

 

_\- Sure you will._

( _How serious?_ )

 

Ass. _\- Don't doubt me, jerk_

( _Serious as fuck, man._ )

 

_\- You'll hunt me down in Soul Society. Right._

( _I'm officially worried._ )

 

_\- I'm both creative and stubborn_

( _Not exaggerating. Need you._ )

 

\- _Accurate._

 

He'd find her ASAP.

Karin wandered back to the park and distracted herself with the ball for years until she finally sensed Tōshirō's chilly reiatsu approaching. She turned to him in relief as he cleared the trees. “Hey, Tōsh--”

His face did the same thing Goat Face's kept doing. She _hated_ it and struck instinctively, launching the soccer ball at his face with a magically-enhanced kick.

Of course, he immediately jumped up and stopped it with a chest bump and flare of his own reiatsu to dampen the blow. “ _The hell was THAT for?!_ ” Tōshirō roared.

“ _I'm gonna beat the face off the next person who looks at me like that!_ ” Karin screamed. Welp, so much for starting calm.

His face did the thing again, but worse. More pain. “Karin--”

“ _Don't make that fucking face!_ ”

Tōshirō sighed tiredly and ran a hand through his hair. “Sorry.”

“No, I'm sorry,” Karin mumbled, looking at her feet. “I'm just-- yeah. Sorry.”

“I understand,” her friend said quietly.

She was sure he did, considering the things he had gone through himself. Especially the war stuff. He wouldn't say so if he didn't. That was just how he was-- he didn't do empty platitudes.

Tōshirō stood silently and watched her for hours/minutes, thoughtful. Karin balled up her hands into fists and dipped her chin to look up at him through her bangs. Her friend breathed out slowly and moved to scoop the soccer ball into the air with a little kick and grabbed it out of the air. “Soccer first or straight to the hill?”

Karin forced her muscles to relax and scrubbed her hands on her face. Hated to admit it, but, “The hill.”

“All right.”

They meandered their way through the neighborhood and up the hill in silence. Tōshirō bought them both sodas from a vending machine. They perched on the guardrail and looked out at the wide sky over the city below. Not quite time to be watching sunset. Clouds would have to do for now. They'd probably be there awhile, anyway.

She wasn't in the mood to be delicate. “You all know something else about me 'n Yuzu from last time but won't say anything and _suck_ at hiding it and it's driving me nuts.”

He _was_ in the mood to be delicate. “It's to spare you... trouble.” At least she could count on him to not lie to her face to deny the obvious.

“What kind of trouble?”

“...I don't know. Nightmares? Existential horror? Anxiety? Embarrassment?”

Embarrassment was an unexpected addition. “That's stupid.”

Tōshirō looked at her sideways and raised a brow. “Stupid to be concerned?”

“No, dumbass,” she replied hotly. “Stupid to think not telling is going to spare me that.” More subdued, she admitted, “Not knowing and guessing is worse than knowing. I have an imagination, Tōsh. I can't help using it. Without an outline, it's come up with a hundred goddamn explanations for your faces. It's... I wouldn't go as far as to call it torture, but it's driving me up a wall. I hate not knowing something about myself.”

He stared at her for a long time, grim and considering. She stared right back at him.

“What do you want to know?” Tōshirō asked carefully.

Another thing she could count on: he was just as protective as her father and brother but he _did not_ coddle her. He disliked leaving people in the dark about things without solid reasons, especially if withholding information was likely to backfire and defeat the purpose. It was why he had told her so much about shinigami in the first place. Tōshirō would choose his words carefully to soften the blow and might gloss over the worst details, but he wouldn't leave her grasping around in the dark for monsters.

Karin rolled her eyes. “Whatever would explain your faces.” _Max disclosure, please_.

“You know about Yuzu dying, you turning into a Witch, and you committing suicide,” he said. “Isn't that explanation enough?”

“No. That's too vague. There's more to it.” Karin gestured with the soda can. “Everyone's looking at me like they're trying to see into my skull. What the hell is that for? Do you all think I'm gonna off myself when your backs are turned?”

Tōshirō pursed his lips and worked his jaw, turning to contemplate the soda can he held loosely on one thigh. “I think... for most of us, it has to do with what we wrote about your... labyrinth.” He went quiet; she waited him out. “It seemed to have been... blatantly symbolic. Personally so.”

Karin narrowed her eyes. “So you're all trying to see in my skull because your other yous took a stroll through it and you're trying to see it yourselves?”

He grimaced. “That's one way to put it. Except more like... looking for warning signs so we _don't_ see it for real. And also... feeling like we know things we're not supposed to.”

“What was so personal about it?”

Her friend rubbed his face, held his hand over his mouth, and stared into the distance with haunted eyes. It must be bad for him to be so affected just by a description of it on paper. “There was... artwork. Of us. And representing us. In a big museum. Photos of... your memories, I suppose. But also of... things that never happened. Maybe things you wanted to happen. Like....” Tōshirō looked at her hesitantly. “Like me and you playing soccer together as really little kids. Both of us in Shin'ō Academy uniforms. And you and Yuzu... in high school uniforms. With... I suppose she was your mother. Older than in that poster in your house, though. Some gray in her hair, I wrote. Ichigo... kinda lost it when he saw that one.”

Karin felt the blood drain from her face, then return quickly as a hot blush.

So, like... _personal-_ personal.

His mouth quirked into a brief smirk. “And you grown up and wearing the JFA uniform with a World Cup team.”

“Fuck _yes_ ,” Karin blurted, grasping for the buoy he offered her. Steady. Steady. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. “Tell me.”

And so he did. Carefully, gently. Told how her soul had been laid bare before their other selves, how his other self felt he had invaded her privacy. Speculated that they had all written so much of it to themselves despite the intrusiveness in order to force themselves to take everything super seriously and keep from ever having to see it again.

God, pronouns and verb tenses were weird with time travel.

Tōshirō stopped short of telling her about her Witch form, though. She prodded him, but he just gave her that haunted expression and said, “Do you trust me?”

“With my life,” she replied immediately.

“With your sanity?” he asked.

“Of course. That's why I asked you to come.”

Tōshirō breathed deeply. “Then please trust me when I say _you don't want to know_.”

Karin searched his face for a long time. He maintained eye contact, face open and honest. She recognized the undertones of his expression as in the neighborhood of the times he spoke of his trouble getting over what he had been tricked into doing to his sister in the Winter War. “You didn't mention a room for Yuzu,” she prompted with suspicion.

He just stared, eyes and mouth tight with stress.

“Next-level mindfuck regarding Yuzu?” she guessed morbidly.

Her friend swallowed hard and nodded. He opened his mouth, but closed it when he couldn't find words.

“Okay. I trust you.” She really, honestly didn't want to know. She knew enough detail.

His relief was nearly comical.

Enough detail, but in general.... “Was I at least a badass Witch?”

Tōshirō gave her one of his epic disgruntled looks. “I cannot believe you actually asked me that.”

“Was I? I mean, museum sounds kinda boring.”

He dragged his hands down his face and looked heavenward for patience. “I guess.”

“You guess I was boring?”

“No, you brat. Badass. I guess.”

“You guess?”

“Your Witch was big and breathed fire. That's all you're getting out of me.”

“Cool.”

“You are unbelievable,” Tōshirō muttered darkly.

“Who defeated me?” Karin asked.

Tōshirō looked like she had punched him in the gut, his eyes fluttering closed. “Akemi and I-- the other me-- we... cooperated. The others were... uh, pinned down. Familiars. I-- he-- restrained you. With ice. Akemi... struck the blow.”

Meaning Karin's Witch had probably been blown to bits by a ridiculous amount of artillery.

“Your father and brother-- their other selves-- were there. They saw. Your father was carrying your body and ended up just sitting and staring and your brother just... he got penned in and just shut down. Neither could fight... your Witch. They... probably wrote about that. I-- the other me-- wrote about it in enough detail to... yeah.” Tōshirō looked ill.

“Oh. Hell.” Karin picked the tab off the top of her soda can for lack of anything else to do. “That explains some things.”

So every time her best friend saw her, he was forced to contemplate a reality in which he'd have to put her out of her misery because her family couldn't bring themselves to do it. Nice. She felt like an asshole for making him tell her. It did give her context for the _looks_ , though. And... that other Tōshirō had been able to help end her misery when no one else who knew her could. It pained _this_ Tōshirō to just read of it, so that _other_ Tōshirō... well. She didn't know if she'd be capable of the same thing were their positions reversed.

“Thank you. Really,” Karin said with deep sincerity. “That's gonna really help me be more patient with... everyone.”

“You're welcome,” Tōshirō mumbled, miserable.

She stared at him as he refused to look at her. “There's something else, isn't there?”

The tab of his soda can joined hers on the ground. He didn't answer.

After awhile, Karin hesitantly asked, “ _Do_ you think I'm gonna off myself or something?”

“Your other self destroyed her Soul Gem literally across a table from Akemi and the other me,” Tōshirō blurted in a rush. He immediately slammed a hand over his mouth, too late to catch the words.

Karin's breath caught.

“Said-- said-- _I'm really sorry about this_ ,” he rasped through his fingers. “Then... gone. Before I-- he could even blink.” Tōshirō's eyes slid to look at her sideways. “It... wasn't _me_ there, if you know what-- time travel-- ugh. But.” He looked away into the distance, at the sun descending toward the horizon. “You're not the only one with an imagination,” he whispered. “We _all_ have imaginations,” he added as an afterthought.

Bile rose in Karin's throat. She was furious at and ashamed of her other self. How could she ever--

“Don't you _dare_ blame yourself,” Tōshirō said hotly. “That other you-- she was-- she was--”

“Broken?” Karin whispered.

He glared at her yet beyond her, eyes shifting as he took in her face and thought hard. “...Broken _hearted_. And traumatized. Not-- not in her right mind.” His arm seemed to spasm and he grabbed her wrist. “ _It won't happen this time._ It _won't_.” His face was intense. Determined. Damn near desperate. Protective.

She had to smile at him. Couldn't resist. “I'm so lucky you're my friend, Tōshirō,” she said warmly. Her smile widened when he looked away, face reddening. Karin bumped her ankle against his. “You're right. It _won't_ happen this time.”

Tōshirō's only reply was to release her wrist and bump his ankle against hers in return.

They sat and watched the sun set in comfortable silence for a long time. Eventually, Tōshirō's phone beeped. He glanced at it and sighed.

“Gotta go, huh?” Karin asked.

“Yeah.” He met her eyes. “You'll be seeing me tomorrow, though. At Urahara's.”

Karin perked up. “There's a plan?”

“Yeah. And I'm going to make sure your training starts out _right_ without Urahara being an ass.”

D'awww.

“Before I go,” Tōshirō said hesitantly; he paused for a long time, uncertain. “Can I... see your Soul Gem?” he asked haltingly, as though requesting something deeply personal. “Just to... check how dark it is, I mean. You don't have to.” _But it would make me feel better._

She smiled at him, held her left hand up, and made her ring burst into red light and manifest as the egg-shaped crystal. It was dull, a bit dim, but not terribly so. Her friend still looked worried.

“It's been much worse than this before, Tōsh. I'll be fine,” she reassured him.

Tōshirō exhaled slowly and kept his eyes on the Soul Gem. “Right. Good.” He stood and opened his mouth to speak.

“By the way,” Karin interrupted with a rush before she lost her nerve, “I'm sorry for hiding all this shit from you until it blew up in my face. It was a dick move. I shouldn't have let Incubitchface convince me to keep my mouth shut. Hell, I should've asked you about its story before I ever made the contract. I'm really sorry.”

He looked... pained and touched, she thought. He smiled slightly. “I'm very familiar with manipulation of trust,” he said, referring to what that shithead Aizen had done to his sister. “It sabotaged your faith in the organization I'm a leader of, not me. I forgive you.”

Karin hadn't realized how deeply that had bothered her until she released the tension. “Thanks, Tōsh. See you tomorrow.”

He waved lazily and took off down the hill, heading for Urahara's place to ditch his gigai. Karin stayed there awhile longer and sorted through the new information.

The picture the puzzle made wasn't a pretty one, but it was solid. She could work with solid.

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

§ x § x §

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Wanted to show how Karin felt about things and how strongly the notebooks affected the Karakura crew. Hope I pulled it off.
> 
> Yes, the title is a soccer pun LOL.


End file.
